Borrowed Time
by damonkeygirl
Summary: Survivor's guilt is a powerful emotion. And the knowledge that you're alive because nearly 3000 people are dead is the type of pain that can eat away at your soul. Tag to 'I Ka Wa Mamua.' Bromance.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Do not own.

Gen, Tag to 'I Ka Wa Mamua,' two-shot

* * *

_Borrowed time._

_Borrowed time?_

_Borrowed time. I've gotta keep reminding myself it's borrowed time._

_What are you talking about?_

_This. Here. Me. Last ten years of my life, with my daughter. Borrowed time. I was not supposed to have any of this._

* * *

Steve McGarrett was stretched out on his couch, staring at the dark television in front of him, unopened beer in hand. It was nearing midnight and Steve was waiting for his partner, Danny Williams, to drop in, unannounced, as usual.

Except, today wasn't usual, today had been so far from normal Steve was having a hard time convincing himself that it had happened. He couldn't even fathom how Danny was coping.

Every since the words 'terror cell' had been spoken, Danny had adopted an odd, distant look. It has taken the better part of the day, but now Steve understood Danny's fear. Hell, he should have realized it earlier, but Danny's vague references hadn't been enough to clue him in.

Steve should have realized it because he knew Danny. He knew the man was from New Jersey, close to New York, close to Ground Zero. Steve hadn't been able to get a handle on the emotions playing on Danny's face when he finished his story, too many of them hidden by the blatant fear of imminent destruction, and then too quickly overrode by sheer relief.

But, Steve knew his partner, and Danny knew him, and they both knew they would end up here tonight. So Steve had stopped and picked up an extra six pack before heading home that evening.

True to form, when Danny arrived, he barged right in, not even bothering to knock at this hour of the night. Silently, he kicked off his shoes and sat down next to Steve on the couch, grabbing a bottle off the table.

"How was the dance?"

"Fine."

"That's it? Just 'fine'?" Steve eyed his partner.

"What? A night with my daughter has to be something more? It can't be enjoyable?"

"But you didn't say 'enjoyable,' you said 'fine.'"

"Fine. Enjoyable. Maybe fun, even, for dancing."

"So what's the problem?"

"Why do you think their's a problem?"

"'Cause normally you would be regaling me with tales of Grace's every step by now. How terrible the punch was because there was pineapple in it-"

"Alright. I get it." Danny lightly smacked Steve on the arm without looking at him.

"Danny." Steve led, taking on some of his partner's usual tone.

"Steven."

"You gonna tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Are we really gonna go through this again?" Steve asked, referring to their conversation in the Camaro earlier.

Danny sighed and played with the still unopened bottle in his hands. "Borrowed time." He repeated.

"Danny-"

"I thought today was it, you know? Standing there, unable to move. I couldn't help but think I'd finally run out of near-misses, that I really was gonna die you know? Time's up, time to punch out, meet my maker-"

"Danny. What's your point?" Steve knew talking was therapeutic to Danny, and he was tempted to let him ramble it all out, but a man had his limits.

"My point, is that my number's gotta come up again eventually."

"Danny, your number's never been called."

"Au contraire, it most certainly has, weren't you listening at all today?"

"Yeah, Danny, I was. But I think you're imagining things, if you think you were supposed to die that day."

"Imagining things?" Danny looked outraged. "Imagining things? Steve, The guy was half a second from chopping my hand off. He'd already shot Grace. What was he gonna do, just let me go?"

Steve didn't answer, choosing instead to let Danny continue, his voice getting softer, colder.

"If-" Danny sighed, scrubbing a hand roughly down his face. "God, Steve. If 9-11 hadn't happened I'd be dead right now."

Steve sat in silence along with Danny. They'd finally hit the crux of the issue. Steve had seen his fair share of survivor's guilt during his time in the Navy, hell, he'd felt it himself a time or too, and he had no doubt Danny had been struggling with those feelings for over the last decade.

Steve knew survivor's guilt was a powerful emotion and he knew the grips it could hold over someone's thoughts. "I know." Steve winced when he realized that hadn't been the right thing to say.

"You know? What the hell do you know? Thousands of people died Steve, and I'm alive because of it! And you know the only thing I felt when I walked out of that warehouse? Relief. Relief that I was alive, that I could get Grace medical attention before it was too late.

"But when I saw that black cloud, I just knew, I knew, we were screwed. No one would stop Steve. All those patrol cars went by and not a single one of them stopped to help. And Grace bled out, tied to a chair in god damned warehouse. The very thing that gave us a fighting chance, was the thing that killed her. And I was alone."

Steve watched the unshed tears pool in Danny's eyes. He sympathized with Danny's grief, knowing he'd never fully understand all of it. He knew and prayed he'd never have to live with the knowledge that he was alive because nearly 3000 people were dead. He knew that sort of pain was the kind that never went away, that was always present, eating away at your soul.

"I'm sorry Danno." Steve said, placing his arm around Danny and pulling him in a close embrace, trying to offer some sort of comfort. "I'm so sorry."


	2. Chapter 2

_2001_.

_What the fuck is that? _Danny swayed on the spot staring at the massive black cloud on the horizon. He could see it billowing upwards and outwards, never stopping, just an endless supply of smoke.

He couldn't make out enough of the horizon to see where it was coming from, the nearby warehouses cutting off his view in that direction.

After failing to flag down a single car in the third wave of vehicles that passed by, Danny gave up. No one was going to stop, and he just wished he knew _why. _The ominous cloud was damning enough, but it barely told him anything.

Danny turned and shuffled back into the warehouse, unable to maintain his previous speed, adrenaline wearing off quickly. Ducking under the chain sent a new round of pain across his chest. He had no doubt there was a broken rib or two floating around in there.

Steadfastly ignoring the three dead bodies on the ground, Danny made directly for his partner. "Grace." Danny held her head in his hands again. "Grace." He knew it was useless. There'd been a slim chance before he'd gone outside, but there was no mistaking the pallor of death this time around.

Tears trailing down his cheeks, Danny used a shaky hand to release the bonds holding her to the chair. Grace immediately began to slump and he cradled her body, lowering it to the ground.

_I'm so sorry Grace. _Danny made to get up from his kneeling position, but the sudden change in orientation of his head had his brain swimming. Nausea, dizziness, fainting, he could feel them all creeping up on him. _I will not throw up. I will not throw up._

His mantra kept the bile down, but he couldn't resist the pull of the darkness, and he slid to the ground, unconscious.

* * *

Awareness was sudden and painful. Danny groaned at the way his contorted position was pulling at his chest. Twisting around, he lay flat on his back watching the ceiling of the warehouse swim across his field of view.

Blinking several times, the swaying stopped and the world started to feel solid again. Risking it, he sat up slowly, scanning the room as he did so.

It took him a few seconds but finally he spotted the pile of stuff containing virtually everything he and Grace had had own them when they entered the warehouse.

Before getting up, Danny reached out for the wadded up piece of paper on the floor. Unfurling it carefully, he gazed longingly at the picture. He was alive, he was still gonna get to be a dad. _If you ever get out of here._

Rallying his energy, Danny pushed up off the ground, standing rather steadily. The pile included both their guns, badges and IDs, cell phones, and his car keys. Reaching out he picked up his cell phone first. Dialing the number for central dispatch first. He pressed the device up to his ear, but the call never went through.

Frowning, he tried again, still nothing. He checked the small display, and was affirmed that, yes, he did have signal. He tried various other numbers as well, but the calls never made it through. After failing to make a call with either phone, Danny began to feel a little freaked out.

Snatching up the guns, badges, and car keys Danny made for the door leading back outside. He paused on the threshold considering whether or not he should try moving Grace's body to the car as well.

The moment he bent down to even consider the idea, a sharp flash of pain sparked across his chest and he decided against it. _I'll be back for you Grace. I promise._

Dumping the things in the passenger seat Danny shoved the keys into the ignition and a twisted. The car sputtered. "No. No, no, no, no!" Danny repeated the action. Once. Twice. Three times. The car wouldn't start.

"Why? Why are you doing this to me? Huh? What did I ever do to you? I'm not even the one who drives you!" Fruitlessly, he kept trying to coerce the car to start. "_Please_." _Great, now I'm talking to my car._

Danny pulled the keys out, popped the hood, and stood looking at the engine. It dawned on him he had absolutely no idea what he was looking for. He hung his head against the top of the frame.

"Next time, next time, I'm not buying no used car. I don't car how much it costs, I'm getting a car that _runs _when I want it to. I'm gonna buy a car that's fast, so when I really need to get somewhere, _like right now!" _Danny kicked out at one of the tires, succeeding in nothing more than adding another ache to his list of injuries. "I can actually make it there in time!"

Moving away from the car Danny looked up for the first time since he'd come back outside. His mouth moved open and shut silently without words.

The black cloud had grown to an impossibly enormous size, stretching clear across the sky, horizon to horizon, still being fed from the source. It was almost like the source of the smoke had _doubled, _but Danny couldn't even begin to fathom what it was. Without the visual clues, his geography was a bit off, and he couldn't remember enough of the drive in to know any better. He'd been too distracted thinking about Rachel and their baby.

Deciding, possibly irrationally, that staying here wasn't an option, Danny went back to the car and grabbed his gun and badge, securing the later visibly on his belt. Sighing, thinking about Grace's body, lying on the floor along with those scum, and wincing from the increased pounding in his head, Danny set out walking towards wherever the smoke was coming from.

* * *

_2012_

"So what happened?"

"I uh, I passed out, about six feet from the car. Woke up in a over-crowded hospital room. Collapsed lung, internal bleeding, concussion, you know?" Danny shuddered. "It was all a mess, no one could find anyone, it took me over two days before I could get in contact with Rachel."

"Wow, that's just, wow-" Steve shook his head. "I guess I didn't realize it was that bad."

"Where were you?"

"Can't tell you." Danny rolled his eyes. "But, we spent a better part of that day just watching news footage. I can't imagine being there."

"Me neither. I mean, I was there, but I wasn't _there." _Danny clarified with some hand waving motions. "But, eventually, life went on. Nearly eight months later I'm holding the light of my life in my hands, and that whole day was just a shit-tastic memory."

"Life has to move on right?"

"I wouldn't trade any of it." Danny said thinking about his daughter. "Does that make me a bad person? Being, dare I say it, grateful, in a weird way, that this happened?"

"It doesn't make you a bad person Danny, it makes you human. Wanting to spend time with Grace doesn't make you a monster."

"It just, that feeling, the guilt, it never quite goes away though."

"Maybe that's a good thing. Helps remind us we're here for a reason. We survived for a reason." Steve prodded Danny's shoulder. "That our life has meaning, and purpose."

"You getting cliche on me, Steve?"

"Must be the beer." Steve quipped.

"Must be." Danny agreed, taking a swig of his own drink. _Must be. _


End file.
